


by the collar at the graveside

by notorious



Category: Legacies (TV 2018)
Genre: F/F, disclaimer: i don't know how the fucking merge works
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-01
Updated: 2020-03-01
Packaged: 2021-02-28 06:28:45
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,416
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22979146
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/notorious/pseuds/notorious
Summary: Hope's always known one of them was going to die. Doesn't make it easier when it happens.
Relationships: Hope Mikaelson/Josie Saltzman, Hope Mikaelson/Lizzie Saltzman
Comments: 8
Kudos: 115





	by the collar at the graveside

**Author's Note:**

> all my knowledge of the merge came from the wiki page bc i never finished tvd so let's just let me have this one. title from dermot kennedy's without fear.
> 
> times are tuff so if you like what i do, consider buying me a "coffee" right [here](https://ko-fi.com/danceswithghosts) !!

Hope doesn't know what she's supposed to say.

Doesn't know what she's supposed to do, either, because Lizzie hasn't broken yet and everyone's walking on eggshells around her while awaiting the great collapse.

Josie is gone.

Drained.

Dead.

Hope has come to terms with it. Doesn't like it, not one bit, but understands. She is no stranger to losing those who matter most to her.

Ric is crumbling. He held out hope twenty-two years for a solution only to be forced to finally accept the inevitability of losing a daughter.

Caroline went into hyper-drive the day before The Merge, convinced herself that if she put her nose to the ground and _prayed_ hard enough that she would come up with something before time ran out.

She did not.

She didn't even make it back to Mystic Falls in time to hug both of her girls while they still had their lives at the same time.

Caroline spent six hours in the dirt with Josie's head in her lap when she got there, combing fingers through disheveled brown hair and wiping her own tears off her daughter's unresponsive face as they spilled in bursts, cursing herself, until Ric convinced her that they needed to move Josie. 

What was left of her.

He couldn't bring himself to say _the body_. He won't ever be able to think of her as anything other than Josie, _alive_ , just as a parent shouldn't ever have to bury a child.

Mystic Falls has a wicked way of fucking with what is and isn't supposed to be.

So Josie's gone, and Lizzie is — fine?

Hope doesn't understand.

All their lives Lizzie's had to fight to simply _understand_ her emotions, let alone control them. She's never been much good at holding in what wants to come out of her, especially when it's bad. People tend to know when Elizabeth Saltzman is unhappy, and this shouldn't be the exception. This should be the example. This is her sister, her twin, the second half of her soul — dead.

Gone.

For good.

Hope almost wants Lizzie to break already, to scream, to cry, to beg to go back in time, just to get it out of the way. It'll be worse the longer she waits. It'll hurt either way, Hope knows, it'll absolutely fucking _gut_ Lizzie, but it might be easier to get through while they're all still raw and awed and fighting off symptoms of shock. While they're all still in the worst of it. At least they'd be at rock bottom together.

One of them was always going to die. That's not new, they've all known for years. Hope's spent nearly as much time pondering The Merge as she has daydreaming of what life would look like if Klaus and Hayley still had their lives. Hope's understood, conceptually, that only one of the twins would walk away from The Merge since the ritual was first explained to her all those years ago at the Salvatore School.

But none of that was enough to prepare her to watch it happen with her own two eyes.

Right before Josie went down, when her eyes lost their color and her heart lost its beat, Hope felt the world fall out from under her. For a moment there was nothing — no atmosphere, no oxygen, no gravity, no peace — and then there was only despair, hot and heavy in her chest, as Josie crumpled to the ground with a deafening thud.

Lost to the world.

For good.

Hope hit the ground next, eyes wet and throat raw from a scream she hadn't even heard herself release. Ric dropped behind her, threw his arms around her middle, and pressed his forehead to the spot between Hope's shoulder blades. He held her even as he shook with defeat. Hope loved him in that moment, and knew she would love him until her own time on earth was up, but she did not want him to be strong. Not for her, not then. Not even for Lizzie did Hope want Alaric to force himself to be the adult. She wanted him to wail and to whine, to curse and to cry, to condemn the Gemini and hunt them down one by one for their upholding such a ritual. For taking one of his daughters from him. For causing such pain.

In that moment Hope wanted Ric to _rage_. He deserved to. She knew he wouldn't.

Lizzie didn't do anything when Josie dropped. Just stood there, wild-eyed, muttering under her breath the final incantation of the spell that was her sister's undoing. It had to be done, Hope supposes now, but none of them liked watching Lizzie finish it out while Josie lay lifeless in the dirt at her feet.

None of them liked any of it.

Lizzie was too calm.

Still is, Hope thinks.

Especially now, standing before her sister's gravestone, emotionless save for the regret lingering in the quiver of a sad smile. Hope doesn't know how Lizzie can smile at all, but she doesn't know what it feels like to absorb the magic that once lived inside your twin. Doesn't know what it means to stand at attention while the best friend you've ever had falls limp and lost at your feet and you just have to _stand there_ and finish what you started. Hope will never know what that feels like, and for that Lizzie is grateful.

Otherwise she's just numb.

"Liz?"

"Hm?"

"I know it's a loaded question — but are you okay?"

Lizzie sighs.

Doesn't answer just yet.

Sinks down to her knees in the dewy grass, unaware of or unbothered by the water wetting her jeans, and lifts a hand to trace the letters of her sister's name with a fingertip, one by one, until smooth stone chills her skin and sends a shiver straight through her. She takes her hand back and cradles it to her chest, like it's fragile, like it'll break if she drops it back to her side. She's still smiling when she looks over her shoulder at Hope standing behind her, but it's sadder now. Heavier. Like there's a new weight on Lizzie's soul she won't ever be rid of. Hope doesn't think that's too far off.

"I can still feel her." Lizzie reaches out and Hope's hands meet her halfway, helping her back to her feet. "In my head and my heart. In my bones. It's like she's still here."

"That doesn't answer my question," Hope counters, but gently, and slips her hand into Lizzie's. Their fingers lace together, palms meet, and everything feels a little bit better. Just a little.

"I'll be okay," Lizzie says after a moment.

They stare, two pairs of eyes, one weary and the other withdrawn, at the gravestone. They should not be standing here, should not be looking down upon the final resting place of someone barely twenty-two. 

Josie should not be in the ground.

She should be there, with them. At the school. Teaching the children. Filling the halls with laughter and gracing Mystic Falls with her love. Josie was good at making people feel like they mattered; Hope thinks she _made_ people matter, at least to her. She made people mean something. And meaning something to Josie Saltzman meant the world to so many of them.

"She's not gone, you know," Lizzie says softly, like she doesn't want to say it. Like saying it will make Josie _actually_ being gone that much more real.

But Hope knows what she's trying to say. Hope understands, so, "She lives in you now," she says, just as soft. There are no tears left, she's cried out, but she needs something. She reaches for Lizzie and finds the lapel of her coat, lets her hand drift on up until her fingers bump against her chin and her hand closes around her collar. Pulls her in until she can rest her forehead against Lizzie's shoulder and the world stops spinning around her. Until Lizzie grants her asylum in the comfort of her arms because — _somehow_ — Hope's the one worse off with this.

For now all Hope needs is something to hold on to.

"She loved you," Lizzie mumbles, lips against the crown of Hope's head. "I can feel it more than almost anything else. By the transitive property. . . I might love you now, too."

And she doesn't know what Lizzie needs, none of them do, but Hope thinks she'd die trying to give it to her.

Whatever it is.

**Author's Note:**

> come yell at me on twitter @TRIBRlD


End file.
